


Brave

by YouKnowMeAsJ



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouKnowMeAsJ/pseuds/YouKnowMeAsJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during "Murder Under the Mistletoe" (s. 2 ep. 13)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave

 

Another clap of thunder made Dot jump. There was no way she was getting any sleep tonight. She got up for the umpteenth time to check that the door and window were properly locked; she checked the adjoining bathroom for good measure, too. Everything seemed to be in order, but such strange things were happening that –OOH! Another clap of thunder.

“Now see here, Dorothy Williams. You’re not afraid of a little thunder. That was before; you work for Miss Phryne now. You need to be –OH!- Alright, it would be easier to be brave without the thunder, but you have to do it, just the same”. Her pep talk to herself helped a little; she managed to sit on the bed. She didn’t dare lie down, though, half expecting the murderer to be hidden underneath (he wasn’t; she had checked. Twice). Even though she was completely exhausted, every strange sound made her jump, every creak had her standing to test the lock on the door again. So when the knock came, she almost screamed.

“Wh… who is it?” she managed (quite bravely, she thought).

“It’s me, Dottie! I just wanted to check that you were alright”

Hugh!! She leapt to the door and swung it wide open. There was her beau, looking like the dashing hero he was, wearing his jumper and dressing gown over his pajamas, to fight off the cold.

“I know you’re afraid of the thunder, Dottie. I just wanted to see if you needed anything”

“ _Afraid?_ ” Dot huffed. She had, after all, been exceptionally brave in answering the door “I am most certainly not afraid of the _weather_ , Hugh Collins. In fact, if you must know, you just woke me from sound sleep”

Oh no, what had he done now? He could hear Dottie pacing from his room next door; he knew she wasn’t asleep. How did he keep managing to get into these situations?

“Of... of course not, Dottie! I didn’t mean afraid. Why, you’re the bravest woman I know, except for Miss Fisher. I just thought, under the circumstances, you might want some company. I’m a little nervous myself, to be honest”

Dot hesitated. She certainly would feel better if Hugh was with her, but it was unthinkable! They weren’t married; they couldn’t possibly spend the night together. It was wicked and sinful, the sort of thing only “fast” women did. What would Father O’Leary say?

Hugh seemed to read her thoughts on her face. “I’m sure there’s nothing improper about letting me in, Dottie, considering everything that’s going on right now. I am a police officer, after all”

He was right, of course. And Hugh would never do anything to compromise her reputation. Besides, what Father O’Leary didn’t know couldn’t hurt him (or her). She let Hugh in.

Now it was his turn to hesitate; she took the lead. “Why don’t we sit on the… erm… well, on the… um… we’ll have to sit on the… on the bed, I suppose”. They each took a side. Dot took off her dressing gown (Hugh studiously averted his eyes) and climbed under the covers. Hugh sat on top of the bedspread, with his legs straight out in front of him, barely leaning on the headboard.

“Good night, Dottie”, he managed, through teeth that were already chattering.

Dot could see it was simply too cold for too much propriety. She hoped God was busy with something else at the moment. “Get under the covers, Hugh. You’ll catch your death”.

Removing only his bedroom slippers, Hugh crawled into bed with his sweetheart, being very careful not to look at her, blushing furiously, and still wearing both his jumper and his dressing gown. Absolutely no part of them was touching, whatsoever (in fact, a third person could have fit quite comfortably between them, so intent were they on keeping their distance). “Get some sleep, Dottie. I’ll be here”.

They lay in silence for a moment, stiff as boards in their respective corners. “Hugh, do you think the murderer might be in the house with us?”

“Of course not, Dottie. The Inspector and I secured everything good and tight. Whoever is out there has no way of getting in. Now stop thinking about murderers, and try to get some sleep”

She could hear the worry in his voice, even though he was trying to keep his tone light, for her. Her Hugh. He looked so handsome in the moonlight, with his hair a little out of place. And he was so sweet to come and see that she was alright. She would never had gotten any rest without him there (not that she’d ever tell him). She inched closer to him on the bed. “Dottie, what are you doing?”

“Shhh… get some sleep, Hugh”. She rested her head on his shoulder, ignoring his gasp of shock, and placed her hand on his chest. He very tentatively put his arm around her (nice and loose, nothing suggestive, barely even touching her at all, really. It was more a question of keeping warm than anything else). The world didn’t end, and they both relaxed a little.

Hugh dropped a very quick kiss to the top of Dot’s head. “Good night, Dottie. Sleep well, love”.

He was the best man she’d ever known. And with that though Dot, listening to the beating of her future husband’s good, strong heart, finally fell asleep.


End file.
